


evil is its own reward

by nap_princess



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car-owning Hans is my aesthetic, F/M, High School AU, I know what the summary sounds like but I write tragedies not sins, I wrote this fic for me but y'all can read it if you want, I've been searching my whole life to find my own place, Lottie is a Disney princess and you can't change my mind, Mathematics, Modern AU, Oh yeah and there's a lot of making out in this fic, Surprisingly involves romance, Vroom vroom bitch, a passing of drugs sounds more appropriate, attempt in humour, but not the type you imagine, drugs???, i cry, idk why I mention it, i’ve come to the conclusion that i don’t like geometry, mentions of abuse, mentions of drugs???, sprinkles angst on fic like that salt meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 20:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20880113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/nap_princess
Summary: With one hand touching the old scar on his cheek and blue eyes avoiding the bruises on his face, she asks him, "What am I going to do with you?"Once again, he does not answer.– HansElsa, high school AU





	evil is its own reward

**Author's Note:**

> Notes 1:  

> 
> I'm so used to _Disney_ using Hans as a punching bag that the moment I saw the comic of Hansel (little Hans) being fed literal scraps by the royal family, I started tearing up thinking it was another sick joke. I don't know if it was an implication of 'haha, don't worry, the bad guy deserves suffering' or just me overreacting but starvation and going to bed hungry isn't funny. I hope I'm at the wrong, I hope it's just my mind playing tricks on me and that _Disney_ is actually trying to wise up by mentioning Hans. I don’t know how including a hungry Hans is wising up – implying a child not getting fed is not gonna answer any of my Hans questions, but, I hope _Disney_’s making plans.
> 
> You know how the fandom always says Elsa doesn't eat enough? We were wrong, Hans doesn't get enough food. That boy is starving. I've written a couple of pieces already on bulimia and anorexia. The illnesses are horrid, it's damaging so don't play with me on issues of food, _Disney_. I'm concerned. I get so fucking concern when it's about human needs like food. I know people who are so lovely but so skinny and they make jokes about not being able to afford _McDonald_'s chicken nuggets sometimes. I know that's a classic meme but what if it's true? If it was possible, I'd ask them on a date just to see em’ eat with my own two eyes. Like, are you eating? Are you eating well?
> 
> Also reflecting on something I read years ago about an abused girl. She didn’t tell anyone about her abuse life, she wanted to pretend she lead a normal life, but she would occasionally use excuses to stay over at her boyfriend’s house. She expressed how nice she thought his parents were and how grateful she was for the spaghetti dinner and it was such a simple gesture but I sobbed, my dudes. I can't look at spaghetti the same way.
> 
> Notes 2: On a more positive note. Don't you think Rapunzel's parents are the sweetest people? Their whole screen time had zero lines, just body language and facial expressions but everything about them looked so loving. I believe they run a good kingdom, I bet if they made food, their restaurant would be one of those that you could taste the love poured into it. Literal perfection (chef’s kiss).
> 
> Elsa's interest in Mathematics and Geometry comes from this:  

> 
> Note 3: I’m going to attempt to be funny to lighten the blow because –  


** evil is its own reward **

* * *

**i**

* * *

"Sorry, I’m sorry – I know I'm late!" Elsa gasps out of breath as she hurries past Tiana and into the back room to retrieve her uniform.

Tiana eyes the clock above the serving window, Elsa’s right, she _is_ late – about fifteen minutes.

Once Elsa had her apron tied around her waist, Tiana playfully leans against the counter and says to the blonde, "I can't believe you left me to fend for myself against all these customers!” She sweeps her arm at the diner occupied by two old people having tea. It’s way past lunchtime but a tad too early for dinner, around four-thirty PM, which explains the lack of customers.

Elsa allows herself to smile and then replies just as sassily, "Wow, you must have had your hands full."

“Count your blessings that nobody’s decided to raise their pitchforks or start a fire.” Tiana continues then changes her tone to ask, “Jokes aside though, where were you? Are you okay? It’s not like you to be late.”

“I just got held up.” Elsa answers, looking down at her uniform to make sure her name tag’s pinned on right.

“Did Anna accidentally crash into someone’s science project again? The last time that happened, the two of you were forced to rebuild the whole thing.”

Elsa laughs. “No, nothing like that. And she’s only done that twice.”

“So far.” Tiana adds but Elsa doesn’t comment on it.

“I was just caught up tutoring somebody.”

“Oooh, study date?” Tiana teases, now wiping the counter.

“What? No. I’m being paid. It’s good money.” Elsa says, hoping the topic switches soon.

“What’s wrong with the salary here?” Tiana asks and Elsa isn’t sure if that was a minimum wage joke or not.

“I don’t get paid to work here.” Elsa informs her friend.

Tiana raises an eyebrow, this is news to her.

“Oh, it’s not so bad. It’s not like I’m being forced against my will or anything, it’s just a shift every Tuesday and Saturday. It’s my family’s diner, of course, I’m going to help. You can call it volunteering.” Elsa explains but one look at Tiana’s face made her say more, “My aunt Arianna and uncle Frederic have offered to pay but … I declined because I would feel so guilty if I took their money.”

“It’s not like you’re stealin’ from them, you’re getting’ paid.” Tiana utters.

“You act like I have a gun held against my head. Rapunzel works for free too.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s free if she’s gonna inherit the business. Also, Rapunzel likes cookin’ and bakin’,”

Elsa gives Tiana a look, wondering if her friend is worried about her. Elsa will admit, she doesn’t think she’s suitable as a waitress. Not that there’s anything wrong with the job itself or the people who excel in this line of work, it’s just that, Elsa isn't the most talkative person. She’s also prone to panicking and laughs awkwardly when she doesn’t know what to say. Maybe she'd be better at the job if customers didn't fuss over small things like sauce. Truly, Elsa will never understand how society can hold such high expectations for people like her and then treat her like utter crap, she's just here to do her best and address crowds politely – no amount of flirting is going to persuade her to give anyone _anything_ on the house.

Regardless, Elsa shows up to work anyway because working at _Corona Diner_ means less time self-isolating herself and more time adjusting to the real world by socialising with people of different walks of life. Elsa's still struggling, but she's trying too. Not that Tiana or many people know about her anxiety. But, Elsa's taking it one day at a time and that _should _count.

Elsa just wishes she could be confident – act when the situation calls for it, but Elsa grasps at successfully steering conversations, so, maybe in the future?

“I know, I know, but …” Elsa continues. “My aunt and uncle, they’ve done so much for Anna and I. After our parents died, they didn’t have to take us, you know? They didn’t have to raise us, but they did, and I just … I feel like I owe them after everything that’s happened.”

Tiana nods understandingly. “Well, as long as you’re not pushin’ yourself. It's your senior year, after all, you should concentrate on your grades and your last year with your friends before headin' off to get your degree."

"I'm fine," Elsa waves the issue off like it's a pesky fly.

“Do you even know what you’re aimin’ for?” Tiana asks, hands on her hips.

“A degree in Mathematics.” Elsa says with a level of assurance she so rarely shows. "You shouldn’t worry about me. I'm more worried about you, you're juggling two jobs.”

“They’re part-time." Tiana replies and there's a shift in her voice. "I’m not a crazy workaholic, if that’s what you’re suggestin’,”

“I would never call you ‘crazy’,” Elsa says sincerely.

“Maybe not to my face.” Tiana says like she’s heard it all. But then she takes a look at Elsa's face and exhales. "I'm not mad at you. Sorry. There are just a couple of folks at my other job, they get on my nerves sometimes. They’re actin' like I don't know how to have fun, I do! Just not with them."

Elsa bobs her head.

"People think I'm crazy, but I don't care. I'll just keep workin' hard, I'm not gonna let anybody get under my skin either; you should do the same, don't let anybody rule over you, you're your own queen!" Tiana advices, earning a laugh from Elsa. Then, slowly Tiana beams at the blonde. "But, anyway, thank you for carin', I appreciate your kindness."

"What are friends for." Elsa smiles back.

* * *

They sat facing each other under a tree, cross-legged on the grass. His head's bent downward and green eyes cast at the numbers he was jolting down in his notebook, while she had nowhere else to look but_ at him_.

Elsa realised she liked this second job – it wasn't as demanding as the one at the diner. It was really nice, actually, somewhat peaceful.

Elsa also realised time spent tutoring Hans Geometry involved a lot of watching. Occasionally, Hans would have a lit cigarette in one hand as his tired, emerald eyes skimmed through the pages of his textbook, trying to make sense of shapes pretending to have meaning. She never favoured his unhealthy habit, sitting outdoors was a pleasant change from being crammed in a room for hours and hours on end; with the warm sun on her face and small breezes ruffling through his red hair.

There was something nice about being able to sit in comfortable silence while admiring him up close. She thinks a lot of her time spent around Hans involves waiting – it reminded her of fairy tale stories where the princess just sits in her high tower helplessly. Of course, Elsa wasn’t helpless, but she never wanted to break the quiet either by interrupting Hans’ concentration. Especially when the Mathematics in his brain clicked and he gets this _Eureka_ moment where he finally understands her favourite subject.

Elsa liked it when that happened. She liked the way his eyes lit up and how – like clockwork – a slow spreading grin spreads across his face, making his freckles stand out even more. So seldomly do people admit they enjoy Geometry and calculations the way Hans Westergaard does.

So, here she was, peeking at him through her lashes.

Hans was handsome, Elsa will admit that. A lot of the girls in her school often talked about how attractive he is. Elsa wants to say more positive things about him, if anyone asks, but Hans doesn't reveal much about himself, Elsa really didn't know much about him. She wasn't even sure if she counted him as a stranger, an acquaintance or a friend; he paid her to tutor him, and friends can’t be bought, right?

"Is this alright?" Hans asks, breaking her out of her train of thought.

Elsa’s head jerks a little and she raises her chin from her open palm before coming to her senses. “Let me see,” She extends her pale hand, taking the scribbled equation from him – an action that she thinks is as close to hand holding as she will ever get with him – then she motions for him to hand his mechanical pencil over to her.

He playfully spins it in his hand, and she takes it away from his long fingers (she will not fall for his tricks).

Her blue eyes scan his boyish handwriting and, this time, it’s his turn to watch her.

To be clear, Elsa didn't like the idea of tutoring Hans _at first_, even after seeing him come close to bruising a finger or breaking his damn calculator with how hard he was stabbing it (it was like he was trying to kill it). She actually snapped at him for man-handling Mathematics like that, called him 'crazy' and he said, "If you’re going to accuse me of being something, I _will_ act upon it," then picked up the remainder of her lunch and _finished her sandwich. _

(She had made the mistake of sitting next to him at a crowded café that was located near school)

She wanted to call him a psycho after that, he really was looking that way with his wide smirk and the mischief in his eyes, but she knew better than to provoke him. Hans knows how to prove a point when he wants to.

(He had a reputation)

When Elsa later asked Hans why he was so insisted on her being his saving grace, Hans told her she was the smartest person he knew.

_"There are loads of other people who can help you. I’m not the only person taking AP classes." _She had said.

_“Yeah, but those people aren’t you.” _He had replied smoothly, and she kind of thought he was full of shit but agreed to teach him anyway.

“You got this wrong.” She scoots closer to him and points to the error he made. He stares at the paper in her hand – hard. She almost wanted to joke that he would strain his cornea that way (but when do they ever joke with each other?).

“Show me.” He says.

“It’s like this,” She answers and breaks down the equation; neat, loopy handwriting crossing over his. He's probably memorised the way she writes by now.

It takes a moment for the pieces to fall. But when it does, it does.

“It fits.” He says.

Elsa doesn’t know why, but she starts beaming. She may have even been glowing pink with pride.

“You’re brilliant,” He tells her in a voice that catches her attention. She didn’t understand how he could constantly act so astonished by her mind. She supposes she is smart, but it wasn’t anything extraordinary, it wasn’t _magic_.

“I’d like to think I'm ordinary.” She says, avoiding his gaze.

* * *

Hans had waved his surprise pop-quiz score in her face so frantically that she couldn’t read it. She had to squint, but even then, the sun was getting in her eyes. The trees were not providing enough shade.

"I didn’t fail!" He says and she isn’t sure if he’s being sarcastic or not.

But judging by the huge grin on his face, she concluded that he’s happy, at least.

She exchanges a smile with him and replies, “Congratulations!”

He doesn’t comment on anything further, he just leans in and plants a quick kiss on her cheek.

Elsa immediately pulls back. Her face must have been _so red_. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I wanted to. Because I felt like it." He replies, still grinning at her.

She wonders if he always did what he wanted or got what he wanted without worrying.

"Well, don't." She tells him, though it sounds more like a warning. He makes her feel like she’s part of his world when she so-painfully isn’t.

"Without asking first, you mean?" He asks.

She didn't reply.

* * *

"Hey, is it okay if we spend a little more time together? I have another quiz coming up next week." He says just as she's packing up her books, stationary and blue pencil-case while he stares at the remains of his coffee cup.

"I have a shift at work on Tuesday." She answers, ready to leave the little café they frequented.

"You work as a waitress, right?" He asks, and Elsa thinks this is the first time he's been curious about her.

"Yeah." She nods curtly, hoping her short answer disinterests him.

"Is Thursday okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Is studying at my house okay too?"

Elsa gives him a strange look before repeating, "Your house?"

“Yeah. The Southern Isles Manor, if you don't mind." His finger now dances circles around the rim of his cup.

"Um," She blinks at the eraser fluff gathered around, hands wringing under the table. "I don't … I won't know how to get there." She says lamely.

"I'll drive us after school."

"You don't … want to study at our usual spot at the park or, here, at the café?" She double-checks.

She knows it's getting colder with Fall turning to Winter, so the outdoors will get chilly, but the café sounds cosy. Elsa isn't sure if she's okay with them hanging out in private. It’s true that the kiss on the cheek didn’t happen so long ago, but, they don't even talk to each other at school. They studied off-campus grounds and she doesn’t think anybody’s even aware that they’re acquainted with each other. Their social circles don’t merge, they may as well be from two different planets!

"Not really." Hans shrugs.

"Is there a reason?" Elsa prods further and hopes her face isn't red.

"Not particularly."

"Um," Her eyes dart around as she thinks and fiddles with her hands again. "Will I be a bother?"

"No, my parents will be at work until seven and all my brothers are either at university or working. I tend to have the house to myself." He tells her.

Elsa's eyebrows scrunch together and she wonders if he's lonely all by himself (or simply bored) but doesn't voice it out. "Will you send me home afterwards?"

"Yeah," Hans answers with a certain ease.

"Will you be okay with sending me home?" She asks.

"I don't mind."

There's a pause, she stares at him with watchful blue eyes, then she nods. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

.

.

.

When Thursday comes rolling by, he greets her at her locker, something she was not expecting. She could have sworn they were meeting at the car park.

Anna stops chewing her gum the moment her teal eyes land on Hans while Belle looks up from her novel in surprise and Mulan blinks as if a talking lizard had just said 'hi' to her.

Hans smirks, he never flashes anyone a grin, he's too full of himself to do that.

It's almost funny, seeing Anna and Belle gap at him while tiny Mulan has to crane her neck to look at his six-foot frame. But, Elsa feels more embarrassed than anything.

"Ready to go?" He asks Elsa as he turns his head to her. His car keys are spinning around his finger, the same way he had teased her with his pencil when they had studied together.

Elsa wants to scoff, Hans can really act like he's auditioning for the role of ‘snotty little rich kid who thinks he’s James Bond’ when he wants to.

But, instead, she mumbles an unsure "Err", and stares at the still spinning car keys. He must be so proud of his little show and his stupid, expensive car.

Her friends give her a look but Elsa’s gaze has now travelled to the golden watch that decorates Hans' wrist. It’s something she chooses to concentrate on instead of the shocked faces of her friends and sister.

“Elsa, what’s going on?” Anna asks, raising a brow. The question of 'since when do you hang out with him?' was clearly written on her freckled face.

Hans’ emerald eyes flickers to the pastel skateboard gathered in Anna’s arms before meeting Elsa's icy eyes and smirking once more.

_What's he thinking?_ Elsa wonders and squints at him.

“It’s – It’s nothing.” Elsa lies, hoping her friends don’t think otherwise of her. Mulan’s already making the most impressive face journeys, showing expressions that tells the blonde she’s internally screaming, while Belle is making copies of the moment in her head. If Rapunzel was here, she’d be freaking out too. “We’re in a group project together. Calm down, okay? We’re just going to the library in town, I’ll be back by dinner.”

Then she pushes Hans in the direction of the car park just to avoid further embarrassment. She's never actively reached out and touched him like this.

“Who’s that?” Hans asks, head slightly turned, eyes still on her sister.

“Just shut up and drive.” Elsa says with gritted teeth as the thinning amount of people in the hall stare.

"Oh, like that _Rihana_ song?"

"_Shut up_.”

“Okay, I get it, I’ll drive.”

...

And he does – like. a. maniac.

And Elsa is not exaggerating. He legit drives in a way that makes Elsa feels like reaching for the handle above her head. But she didn't, it would seem too rude so she just clutches onto her beating chest and hopes she doesn't die.

...

“Make yourself at home.” He had said, then steps out to get them drinks from the kitchen downstairs.

The only thing that crosses Elsa’s mind is, _Don't say it like that_, before she looks around his room. The space is decorated in beige and dark purples and blues like the rest of the house; old mahogany furniture and paintings on the wall. It reminds her of an old manor or an imitation of a haunted _IKEA_ building.

She just keeps thinking – she's in his world, but where is all his junk that told her everything about him? Where are his posters? His newspaper clippings and articles ripped out from magazines? Where are his concert ticket stubs and picture frames? Isn’t there anything he's pleased about himself? Trophies or medals or blue ribbons from science fairs? A guitar he barely touched? His old DVD collection? CDs and stereo?

Elsa’s not expecting anything as cluttered as Anna with her not-so-secret celebrity shrine and her floordrobe (floor wardrobe that you can lie in, push your arms and legs around and make a 'snow' angel) or Rapunzel with her flowing shelves, painted walls and twenty different hobbies; but Hans’ room looks like it's devoid of life. It feels like_ just a room_, just a place you’d stay the night, like those hotels.

Elsa knows that she shouldn’t be snooping around but, she’s always had a knack for reading so it’s no wonder that she gravitated to his bookshelf, the single coloured book stood out like a sore thumb – light green and bulging. It looked personal and that irked her for some reason, because unlike everything else that was splayed out to look _safe_ (Safe from what, she isn’t sure. Who would possibly make fun of him for liking things?), _it_ looked dangerous.

So she crept up on the worn book as if it would run away from her if she touched it.

Elsa flips it open and sees a brief index split into two: **LOVE LETTERS** and **VALENTINES’ CARDS.** She pulls a face and her blue eyes blink in confusion. _What?_ She _must _be dreaming. Is she having a stroke? This looks like something a serial killer keeps.

He wouldn’t keep a book containing years of love letters and Valentines’ cards devoted to him, would he? He can’t be _that narcissistic_, can he? Carefully, Elsa turns a page and sees **2013 **written in bold. Then she turns another page and sees arranged envelopes and folded notes tucked neatly like the whole ordeal is a scrapbook past time. Oh, he _would _be this narcissistic.

She should stop. Elsa knows she _should _stop. But it was like she was in a trance or maybe that feeling when you can’t look away from a car crash. She just kept flipping and flipping and _flipping_, skimming through the pages.

Hans is strangely organised about this ego-boosting hobby. He had set up one page devoted to one girl; with her name written on top, a sample of the gift presented to him (be it a love letter, a card or a square cut-out of the wrapping that came with the Valentines’ chocolate sent) and his journaled thoughts on how the boon affected him.

Elsa recognised some of the names written. Lottie apparently sent him flirty notes for three years in a row. It wasn’t until she reached the current year did Elsa pause fully at one particular page – **ANNA ARENDELLE**.

Her baby sister? You’ve got to be _joking._

Just like most of the souvenirs Hans kept in memory of the girls who fawned over him, Anna’s full name was written, her little Valentines’ card was stuck to the right corner along with a sample of the wrapping she used.

And written in his boyish handwriting, there stood a single note of what he thought of Anna’s chocolate: **BITTER**.

Elsa snaps the book shut like it burned her and shoves it back into his bookshelf.

.

.

.

“Where are you going?” Hans asks as Elsa was hurrying down the stairs.

“Home.” She answers and doesn’t stop descending.

“Wait –”

“No, I can't.” She shakes her head and makes sure to duck out of his reach.

“We haven’t even started studying yet.”

“I can't, Hans."

“Are you weirded out because it's just us? We could study somewhere public if the idea of being alone with me freaks you out.” He proposes, following her. His long legs make it effortless. “We could go study at a fast food joint. _McDonald’s_? I don't know, we could have something to eat while killing ourselves over numbers.”

“N – No. I just want to leave.” Elsa says and she’s almost out the door when he leaps off the last steps and blocks her way.

“Oh, c’mon, Elsa.” He looks at her with half-shut eyes.

_"Who's that?" _He knew who Anna was yet still asked like he didn't know!

She can’t do this. _She can’t do this._

“M – Move! You’re in my way!" Elsa didn't mean to snap, she's just stressed.

“No.” He challenges her, like he thinks they’re on the same level.

She glares at him. She might be shorter than him, and smaller, but she’s not afraid to use her heavy textbook to defend herself. Books can kill too, you know (that is, more than kill brain cells when it’s really, really boring).

Hans sees her square up and start retreating, “No, please. _Please_, Elsa, is there any way I can change your mind? Make some sort of deal?”

_Like what?_ Elsa thinks.

“Suggest a place. Any place.” Hans says, like he’s desperate, thinking of anything that would sweeten his words. “I’ll send us there. _Please_. Don't just run away like this. Don't leave.”

Elsa looks at him, panic still whirling in her brain when a place came in mind. A thought of where they could go. But she stops herself when she realises the only safe place she can think of is her aunt and uncle’s diner. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t. I just – I can’t do this. Drive me home, please.”

* * *

**ii**

* * *

"Hey, you okay?" Tiana asks when she notices how Elsa was rubbing her temples. No one should suffer on a weekend.

Elsa stops massaging her head and sighs. "It's work. Uh, other work. The tutoring. I think it's a little too much for me. I should take a break." Or stop entirely.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Elsa stares blankly at the babbling customers. Ranting would take too much time. Besides, Saturdays at the diner are busy. "No, it's fine." Elsa says.

"Want some advice then?" Tiana suggests.

Elsa thinks for a moment, then nods.

“A job is just a job.” Tiana voices.

“Elaborate?" Elsa asks slowly.

“You don’t gotta kill yourself over a job. Workin' hard is one thing, but don't overdo it. Lord knows I have. I crashed pretty bad." Tiana says and cringed. "You don’t gotta commit or get too absorb in it if unexpected drama pulls you in, you’re workin’ to get paid and nothin’ else.”

"It's not that simple."

"I know. Nothin' is ever black and white, but it helps to think it is."

Elsa lets the words sink in, reflecting on the advice, then beams at Tiana. “Thank you.”

* * *

_"You … You want me to tutor you?”_ Elsa had asked. Even as the words left her mouth, it didn’t feel right.

She likes Geometry. She likes Mathematics. She likes talking about calculation and the myriads of shapes that come with it. She likes most things that involve numbers and thinking and structure. But, she wasn't sure if she would like him – Hans Westergaard.

She wasn't sure if teaching others was her strong point. She enjoys helping but …

Elsa looks at Hans' preppy clothes and stylish shoes and asked, _“Aren’t you fabulously wealthy? Can't you get your parents to send you to proper tutors?”_

_“I can’t,” _Hans had said, something she later says to him.

_“Why not?”_

_“They already think I’m going to tuition.” _He said it like it pained him.

Elsa paused. _“What?”_

_“I’ve been using the money they gave me.”_

Her eyes narrow and danger flashes in her head. _“You – what? So, you stole from your parents?”_ She gapped at him. _“You just took their cash and spent it without thinking twice?”_

_“Technically, they handed it over to me.”_ Hans corrected her.

_Oh my God._ She had thought.

_“I spent most of this month’s allowance already.”_ He continued.

_“What have you been doing with all that money?”_

_“Stuff.” _He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t sure she could handle the truth. That, or he thought she didn’t want to know the details.

Elsa side glances him and asked anyway, _“Like?”_

_“Dates.”_ Hans said sharply.

_Gross_. Elsa thought as she wrinkled her nose.

_“Will you help me? I promise I’ll pay you. It won’t be much, but it would make a difference in pocket money.” _Hans told her.

There was a pause.

A reasonable moment of silence, because – you see, being an orphan who lived under the roof of her aunt Arianna, uncle Frederic and cousin Rapunzel, Elsa felt slightly ashamed of using money that wasn’t hers. She felt bad even though she's done nothing wrong.

Elsa’s not saying that her aunt and uncle can’t afford to raise three girls, she’s just saying that it bothered her. She’s always liked being responsible, so to owe people, be in debt to them, she just didn’t like it.

Elsa’s been helping out at her uncle and aunt’s business for as long as she can remember, but maybe getting a job that slowly paid back an unspoken debt would be fine too?

_“I’ll think about it.”_ Was the only reply she gave.

* * *

Among all the art in Rapunzel's room, one drawing stuck out the most. It must have been drawn when Rapunzel was about seven or so: it was a stick drawing and the only distinguishing features were the hair colour and eyes. Everything else was mundane and drawn in black.

"Who's this?" Elsa had asked one day, pointing at the stick figure whom she figured was a boy; with bright red hair and dark green doted eyes. Elsa expected the answer of 'my first crush in school' or something along the lines.

"Hmm?" Rapunzel hums, pulling her apple green eyes away from the video Anna was showing her.

"Who's this?" Elsa repeats.

Both Anna and Rapunzel looks away from the strawberry blonde's phone.

Rapunzel blinks then answers, "I don't remember."

Elsa's face twists. She wants to ask, 'Then why do you keep it?' but Anna interrupts with her own comment before Elsa's thoughts can leave her mouth.

"It kind of looks like that guy you were with a couple of days ago. Um, Hans, was it?"

Elsa almost chokes on her own spit. She isn’t sure if it’s all in her head or if Anna isn't being subtle about her crush on Hans.

Rapunzel nudges Anna's elbow in a way that said 'LOL, you and your jokes' then shakes her short brown head. It was long and golden a few Summers ago.

“Do you know much about him, Elsa?” Anna asks, her curiosity obviously fuelled.

“Erm, I know that he’s popular.” Elsa says.

“Everyone knows that.” Anna replies, rolling her eyes. “I mean like, what are his hobbies? His interests? What does he do?”

“I, I don’t know. I never asked.”

“Never?” Anna raises a brow and even Rapunzel stares.

“Never.”

Elsa’s answer made Anna’s face twist.

“I heard that he does stuff for people.” Rapunzel pipes up.

“Stuff? What stuff?” Anna asks.

“He dates around, doesn’t he?” Elsa says, not sure why she’s adding this piece of information.

“I mean, yeah.” Rapunzel says but the dip in her voice tells the blonde that that wasn’t what she meant. “But, that’s not really something done for someone. I heard he does favours for the kids in our school.”

“Why? Is it because he likes helping people?” Anna asks, her teal eyes wide with interest.

“That could be it. Or maybe he likes the attention they give him.”

“What do you mean?” Elsa’s the one to ask this.

“I mean, he’s a good-looking guy. I’ve seen crowds gravitate towards him. They clap him on the shoulder and make jokes and flirt openly with him. Thank goodness that he’s charismatic because I don’t think that I could handle all that. It’s like people expect him to entertain them because his face just screams ‘I’m a charming person’ and, I guess, he just adjusted to that life-style afterwards because every time there’s a social event, he’s invited to them _–_ I’ve seen the photos he gets tagged in _–_ and everyone’s always talking about him. He must have a lot of connections.”

“Huh, I never thought of it that way.” Anna muses. “I guess it’s easy for people to go up to him and vice versa.”

“Seems plausible. He must be an open book.” Rapunzel assumes. “I bet you can ask him anything and he’ll be okay with it or find a way to be okay with it.”

Maybe it was the way Rapunzel had worded it, or maybe Elsa wasn’t in the mood, but the brunette’s last statement didn’t sit well with Elsa.

“I – I just remembered, I need to write this report." Elsa says suddenly, spooking her sister and cousin.

"Right now? I was just going to show you this funny cat video!" Anna says.

"Yeah, _right_ _now_, it’s only a couple of hours until dinner time and I don’t want to be too tired when I finish it.” Elsa speaks up and leaves Rapunzel’s room without as much as a sideways glance.

* * *

After one accident with Anna, Elsa had refused to get involved with a lot of things that could potentially hurt the people she loved. She doesn't know why but for the longest time she thought she was bad luck, a cursed thing that could sabotage even the happiest days.

According to Anna, the irrational scenarios that played in her head were on the same level as a death scene from a _Final Destination_ movie. Elsa supposes that's true, but that didn't stop her anxiety from manifesting itself.

_"Nothing bad is going to happen, Elsa." _Anna had assured at age seven after Elsa had had _another_ episode.

During the rare times that Elsa had let Anna in, Elsa had thought that her baby sister was more suited to play the role of the older sibling than her, especially when her mind decided to be nasty.

_Anna should be in charge, not me._ Elsa had thought though Anna's words should have been comforting and encouraging. That's just how her brained worked, cruel to her. Fear runs her life.

And then there was that _awful_ family cruise. The one Elsa had refused to follow through with. The idea of involving herself in a 'sinking death-trap' was too much for Elsa to handle. Her parents had begged her to go but she didn’t want to. Elsa ended up staying and so did Anna just to make sure her big sister was okay. Their old, probably blind neighbour, Mama Odie (who may or may not be rumoured to make gumbo in her bathtub), was nice enough to babysit the sisters last minute.

Maybe Elsa shouldn't have thought of possible-disaster too much because she thinks God must have plucked her crazy worries and made it a reality when the boat sank.

It was a huge deal; it was on the news and everyone knew. _Everyone_. It made things so much more difficult. It was impossible to be invisible and Elsa felt like she was constantly bombarded with expectations of how to feel.

(That was too much too)

But in the end, she had to get on that _sinking death-trap _anyway to sail to where her uncle, aunt and cousin lived. It was the bravest thing she did, and the start of her recovering journey.

* * *

“Hey,”

Elsa swears she jumped three feet in the air before whipping around, braid falling over her shoulder. “Oh my God, it’s just you.” She breathes out a sigh of relief, cold hand on her heart.

“Yeah, it’s just me. Just Hans.” He laughs then takes a seat beside her on the small empty cafeteria table.

“You scared me.” Elsa says, her voice hinted annoyance. She shields her novel away from him.

“I’ve been standing over you for the past minute.” Hans says in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Have you?” She asks. Well, then there's no need for her to hide away her book. Though some may think it's odd to read _The Old Man and the Sea_ when phones are a thing.

“You’re too self-involved in your own little world.” He tells her.

Elsa frowns but doesn’t deny it. She just gets a little too absorbed in what she's doing, a little in her own head, then suddenly she looks up and it's two hours later.

“I also ate your food while you were distracted.” He says.

“What – _again_?”

Elsa usually leave a bit of food on her plate. Not because she's picky. But she's just used to the habit since she mostly spends lunchtime multitasking and is too busy doing said thing to eat. But, she usually finishes it before going back home. She doesn't want her aunt Arianna to think she's ungrateful.

“Why did you do that?” She looks at him irked. Did he like messing with her or something?

“To prove a point.” That would be a ‘yes’.

“_Hans_.”

But he doesn't react the same way she expects him to react because he says, "It tasted familiar."

It takes her a moment to realise he's talking about her food. She casts him a weird look. "It's _a sandwich_."

"Right. Right." He says nonchalantly and swallows. "Hey, did we know each other when we were younger?"

"Define ‘younger’, I moved to town the Summer I turned eleven.”

“I guess not then.”

“Why? Do I suddenly look familiar?”

He stares at her profile then shrugs, like he wants to cast the topic away, then places his chin on his intertwined hands and speaks, “Why are you sitting here alone?”

“I don’t usually. My friends are just busy. Belle has a library committee meeting. She took Mulan with her, something about using the printer. Tiana’s lunch period is different from mine. Rapunzel and Anna are running a little late.”

“I only know half the people you mentioned.”

She wonders if that includes Anna too, but doesn't say anything. Instead, Elsa simply lifts a shoulder then she asks, “Why are you here? Do you need anything?”

“What? Is it a crime to spend time together?” He tips his chin at her.

_With you? Probably._ Elsa thinks.

"I haven't seen you in a week. I got a B minus on the quiz, by the way. Thanks for asking." Hans says sarcastically but Elsa doesn't say anything. Though, she knows what's coming: an unavoidable question. "Hey, about the other day, why'd you freak out like that?" Hans prods her.

"I, it was – it was a work emergency." She lies – _badly_. Her hands grip her novel in an attempt to do something.

"Then why did want to go home?" He points out the flaw in her lie.

"I had to change into my uniform. It was at home, in my wardrobe."

"Really now?"

"Look," Elsa says, she was starting to get angry. "If you're only talking to me to get me invested in helping you with last minute homework, I'm not in the mood.”

“Geez, if I’m bothering you that much then I guess I’ll just leave.” He says.

_Yeah, go._ Elsa thinks and cracks open her book again.

Hans does leave, but not soon enough because he crosses paths with Anna and Rapunzel just as they sit next to Elsa and unpack their lunches.

"Why were you talking to Hans Westergaard?" Rapunzel is the first to ask, a broad smile on her face.

"Homework." Elsa says shortly, not taking lifting her gaze off the pages of her novel.

Anna cranes her neck, looking at the redhead with a sort of twinkle in her turquoise eyes. “Don’t you think he looks like a lot of fun?” Anna pipes up.

“Are you saying Elsa and I aren’t fun?” Rapunzel asks, something Elsa’s glad about.

Anna’s face plucks together like she’s just swallowed a lemon whole. “No, you know what I mean. We have fun, but it’s mostly browsing social media in silence in someone’s room or going to the mall or, I don’t know, playing _Mario Kart_ until someone gets tired of getting blue shelled. Hans looks like somebody who promises things like wild, teenage parties. You know the kind we always see on TV?”

“If it's based on a TV show trope then it’s fake.” Elsa says.

“I know that!” Anna groans. “That's why I said he 'looks like somebody who promises things'. Not all promises can become real. If they did then no one would be disappointed and less people would be left at the altar. Can you believe people promise their heart to someone then ditch them last minute? What a load of baloney!"

"The one who got left at the altar can actually sue for the financial loss they suffered from arranging the wedding." Elsa says.

"Wait, really? I guess it's not so bad then, well, except for seeing their ex again at an awkward court case – hold on, what was I talking about again?" Anna rambles.

"Living your teenage dream?" Rapunzel says.

"Thank you, _Katy Perry_." Anna smiles at her cousin then gestures to her sister. "Anyway, let me live in my fantasies for a bit, Elsa! I’m not saying I want a glamorous ball, I’m just saying why not do something _crazy_?” She had said the ‘crazy’ part like it was a tainted idea.

“You mean drugs?” Elsa asks, raising a brow and fully shutting her book.

“No! I mean some sips of alcohol! Get tipsy or moderately drunk with our peers! Stop thinking of worst-case scenarios, you know me!”

“Didn’t my dad let you try some of his beer a year ago and you said, 'This tastes like car batteries'?” Rapunzel reminds the strawberry blonde.

“That’s different.” Anna argues.

“How? It was the fancy kind too. So, I bet the alcohol served at high school parties will be cheap and taste really bad.” Rapunzel utters in a matter-of-fact voice.

“I still want to get invited to a cool party.” Anna says, though her voice dips with a small defeated tone.

“You have plenty of time to enjoy yourself.” Elsa says.

“It won’t be the same without you two. You’re graduating this year, there’s not much to celebrate when I’m alone.” Anna says and for some reason, the comment digs into Elsa's heart.

* * *

"Hey …"

"Oh, so you're talking to me now?"

"I'm sorry."

Hans turns so he faces Elsa fully; notes her flushed face and sincerity in her voice. He doesn't stay mad at her for long.

He sighs deeply and tells her, "It's okay. Three of my older brothers ignored me for two years. You could have done worse."

Elsa doesn't know how to reply to that, so she doesn't. It seems like her brain isn't the only one who can be cruel.

"Do you … still want me to tutor you Geometry?" She asks slowly.

"I don't know. Maybe." Hans lifts a shoulder.

"I'll tutor you for free for a month." She says then reminds herself that it's just a job. She can push aside her feelings easy!

His emerald eyes harden just a little. "Why?" He's looking for the catch.

“Can you do me favour?” Elsa asks back, then watches Hans' entire body stiffen, shoulders squared and spine straight, before he tries to play it cool.

“Sounds sketchy.” He says after pausing. There is a small hint of false humour behind his words.

“It’s not drugs, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t.” Hans says, continuing to stare at her strangely. “What sort of shows are you watching?”

“_Downton Abbey_, _The Crown._" She lists, not wanting to get into detail.

“Hmm,”

“I, uh,” She says, trying to steer them back to the main topic. “I want you to invite –” ‘My sister’? Would that be too weird? Too singular? She can’t let Anna go to a party alone. “– me and my friends to a house party."

“A party?” Hans repeats. "You want me to get you invited to a party?"

“Yeah, the ones I always hear everyone having a good time.” Elsa says, pretending like she knows what goes on in those sort of events.

“Do you even know what ‘a good time’ means?” Hans shoots her a stare like he’s reading her mind.

“Okay, now you’re making me think that there are drugs involved.”

“I bet you ran into one bad crackhead at a gas station and it traumatised you forever.”

“You’re saying that like there are _good_ crackheads.”

"I'm just asking because you had an episode where you couldn't sit still in the quiet of a boy's room." Hans says.

"It was an emergency." She replies, not exactly lying. It was an emergency _to her._

He blinks at her a few times then waves the sudden stray of conversation away. "Do you want an invite to this possible party or not?”

“Yes, please.” Elsa replies, cheeks probably pink.

Hans pulls out his iPhone then signals for her to 'hold on' while he types. Several replies buzz not even a second later.

“Okay, so," He begins. "Meg might be throwing a party this month after mid-terms results are out. Flynn always raves about them, and you know how that scoundrel has ‘party standards’, whatever that means.” He says, fingers curled into air quotes. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah." She nods at his answer.

“Good.”

An uncomfortable silence drags as Hans makes an effort to get back to the people blowing up his phone. Elsa counts to thirty before Hans pockets his phone and acts like he didn't just pull off something Elsa could never dream of doing.

“So," Hans says, catching Elsa's attention. "Do you have any place in mind where you’re comfortable studying?” Maybe He's asking out of politeness, maybe he's tired the scenery they often visit.

Elsa pauses, then allows herself to smile. “I have somewhere in mind.”

.

.

.

“What is this place?” Hans asks, looking around the diner like it personally punched him in the face.

“My family’s diner. It’s a cute eatery, isn’t it?” Elsa asks, hoping he’d get the memo to not insult it.

He does a 360 spin, taking in the scenery: the big windows that flood in as much natural light as possible, the booths that looked well-worn and comfy, the home-y photographs and positive newspaper reviews framed on the yellow painted wall.

“I love this place.” He says finally.

* * *

**iii**

* * *

"Let's go out." Is what Hans says when Elsa picks up his call after thinking it's an accidental butt dial.

"It's ten PM." Elsa mutters, already dressed in her purple nightgown.

She's winding down, painting her nails and avoiding him. _Well,_ trying to, at least. He still texts her daily about homework and she still replies. She’s just … more closed off now. More reluctant to talk to him unless asked. Elsa thinks this is a good plan: to set up boundaries between her and her sister's crush (before she catches feelings). Of course, Hans isn't stupid, he noticed and now he’s trying to pry her out of her shell (again).

"Exactly!" Hans says, over the phone.

"I'm not in the mood to teach you anything, it’s ten on a Friday night." She decides and doesn't care if she sounds defensive.

A chuckle crawls up his throat. She can feel it through the phone despite the distance.

"I’m not calling for school stuff, I want to take you out. A little treat for working so hard." He tells her.

"What?"

"I'm picking you up." He explains and she hears the sound of a car pass behind him. Is he out in the streets? Perhaps he's driving and has the window rolled down?

"For?"

"The party."

"The party?" She echoes then pauses for a second. "You're _throwing_ a party?" _For me?_ – She wants to add but doesn't because that's too much, even for him. She means, he has the resources and money but ... to expect such an act from him? Sounds fake. Sounds too generous.

"No. I'm _inviting_ you to a party." He corrects her.

Then logic smacks her in the face and she thinks, _Oh yeah, Megara's party. _The one Anna and Rapunzel had been so excited about when Hans told them they were invited but then Elsa backed out last minute.

"But it's lovely that you think so highly of me. You know I'd never, I don't have the time." He continues.

Sirens blare in her brain, making her head and skull hurt. "I can't." She pushes these words out.

"Why not?" He asks, pulling her from her moment. "I specifically remember you saying 'me and my friends' but you're at home while everyone I know is at Meg's."

She wants to roll her eyes at this. He said it was an invitation, not something forced against her will.

He asks her, "Do you already have plans?"

_No. _"Yes." She lies.

"Well, too bad. I'm already in your driveway."

"Wait – what?!" Elsa gasps and finds her feet thundering to her window, throwing them open so that she could yell at him in person. The cold night air hits her.

He's_ there_ alright, leaning against his fancy car and grinning at her with this _stupid_ smug look and – Is he _freaking_ waving at her?

"What the hell?" She hisses loudly and isn't sure if she's talking into the phone or out into the open.

"I notice that the only lights that are left on in your house is the one in your room and there's an empty spot in your driveway so I'm assuming you're home alone." He says.

She is, her aunt and uncle are at the diner, closing up, and Rapunzel and Anna are already at the party. Regardless, Elsa wants to shout at him with everything her young heart can manage. Maybe she could scare him off? Maybe she could scream at him like a psycho maniac. But she imagines if she were to yell, ‘Get out of my house!’ to him then he’d say, ‘I'm not in your house, I'm on your driveway’. She’d rebuttal with a ‘You're on my property’ but would that even work? Because telling him he's a bother to her doesn’t like it'll send him off. She knows him well enough.

Elsa's still thinking when Hans voices out his thoughts, speaking up before she can even protest.

"You can tell me to go alone all you want, Elsa, but I'd rather go to that party with you." He says into the phone.

_God, why not just bring a boom-box with you, while you're at it?_ Elsa thinks.

"C'mon, Elsa."

_Oh, just go away! Go! Go go go! _There is no way in hell she's not going to get dressed up and pretty just for him and go to one stupid last-minute party! _No way. _Nowaynowsynoway –

…

“Elsa, you made it!”

“Tiana?” Elsa gasps. Hard-working Tiana is at a party but not her? Wow, the world must be upside down!

“Are you surprised I’m here?” Tiana asks with a knowing smile.

“Sort of.” Elsa mumbles sheepishly as Hans puts away their Winter coats in a near-by coatroom.

“Lottie dragged me here.” Tiana explains.

_Of course, she did_. Elsa thinks.

“Are you looking for Anna?” Tiana asks suddenly.

“Uh, yeah.” Elsa lies. She’ll say anything to get away from Hans.

“She’s over there –” Tiana starts pointing, making Elsa’s eyes zoom across the room until she sees Anna … making out … with some blonde dude.

Elsa didn’t know whether to scream or cringe. “Who’s that?”

“I think his name is Christopher?" Tiana guesses. "Wait, no, it's Kristoff?”

“Who?”

“Didn't Anna tell you that she and that Kristoff guy has been pining after each other since last Summer?”

"... What? I … I'm so confused." Elsa starts doing Mathematics in her head. So Anna gave her Valentines’ card to Hans in February but then started pinning after Kristoff somewhere during Summer. That’s a huge amount of time for Anna to get over Hans and fall in love with Kristoff, right?

"Well, you see –" Tiana starts explaining but then Lottie comes out of nowhere and gives her best friend a desperate look. “I’ll catch up with you later!” Tiana promises before she’s pulled away.

Elsa panics briefly. God, how weird would she be if she stood near Anna as she made out with some guy she’s never met? She could attempt to look for Rapunzel but the brunette could be anywhere in the large house!

Then Elsa’s next thought is, _Crap, what do I do if Hans leaves too? I can’t stand alone by the snack table!_

Hans comes to her side not even a moment later, like she had summoned him with her mind, and she jumps when he motions for her to take one of the cups in his hand.

“I didn’t do anything.” He says like he’s offended that she’s so jumpy around him.

“You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” Elsa asks, sounding like Hans did a few weeks ago when she ran out down the stairs like she was _Cinderella_ trying to lose a glass slipper. If she were Anna, Elsa would have grabbed Hans by the sleeve of his shirt. But she's not her confident little sister, she's Elsa and she’s scared of looking clingy.

He takes a sip of his drink before asking, “What are you so afraid of?” He’s noticing the desperation in her plead but he’s not sure how to address it.

Elsa opens her mouth but shuts it a moment later.

“You’re not going to start ranting about drugs again, are you? There are other horrors that can happen in a person's life, aside from popping pills and shooting heroin in their veins.” Hans says before saying seriously, “Actually, now I'm thinking the only reason you keep bringing drugs up is because you secretly want to try them."

"What? No way! I don't even want to touch the mood-altering ones with a ten-foot pole. What if I hallucinate and think I have, I don't know, ice powers? Or the gift of life? Or something insane like the power to cure climate change with true love?"

"Actually, that sounds like a good trip, sign me up." He says, taking another gulp of his drink.

"_Hans_."

"I'm just saying, and don't you already have the ability to gift a life?"

Elsa blinks. "What?"

"Unless you're barren?" He raises a brow.

Elsa reaches over and slaps Hans on the shoulder. She hates it when he gets like this. "Don't ask women that, that's like asking a stranger if they're pregnant when it could have just been a large lunch!"

"Ow!" Hans complains. If his hands weren’t occupied, he’d defend himself. "Okay, that's on me, but I'm just trying to prove a point that you don't have to be on drugs to imagine you have the ability to give a life. I once dreamed I had a son but he wasn't human, he was a snowman."

"This conversation is turning very strange." Elsa says. Maybe hanging around Hans isn’t such a bright idea? She hopes it’s the party talking.

"I suppose so, but we’re bonding." He says nonchalantly.

_Are we though? _Elsa thinks, resisting from pulling a face.

Hans lets a pause linger between them before he cranes his neck to look over the sweaty bodies mashed together in Meg’s living room. Elsa follows his gaze and catches Lottie shooting Hans a quick one.

_Oookay? What does that mean?_ Elsa thinks but one glance at Hans tells her that he understands what Lottie wants.

He empties one of the cups in his hand.

_Whoa, slow down._ Elsa thinks.

"Look, Elsa, I get that you’re nervous.” Hans asks, a speech prepared out of nowhere. “Parties aren’t your thing, but I did what you asked: I got you invited. I'm not trying to sound like a jerk or anything, I'm a regular guy. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m just Hans, and I made plans tonight.”

_Hold on a minute! What? Why bring me if you don’t want to be around me? _ Elsa thinks. Maybe Hans thought it would be chivalrous for him to escort her here. Maybe he thought he wouldn’t keep his end of the bargain if she didn’t come. She doesn’t know.

But she huffs out her frustration despite his effort to get her to the event, “So, you are planning on ditching me?”

“Well –”

“For Lottie?”

“If it inconveniences you, I'm sorry, okay? I apologise, but –”

“Anna's occupied at the moment so, I can hang out with Tiana or Rapunzel. Maybe Mulan is even here,” She says sharply, wanting to end the conversation as she crosses her arms, self-hugging, fingers digging into the sleeves of her dress.

He watches her carefully from the corner of his emerald eyes. Then he sighs, “I’ll help you find your friends then go, if you want.”

"No, just go."

“Elsa.”

“I’ll be _fine_.”

…

Elsa swears she was looking for the bathroom when she had stumbled upon the sight. And she swears she wasn’t delirious either, she hadn’t touched one drop of alcohol, she’s just been drinking juice all night and wondering how long is ‘long enough’ to considering leaving a party where she alternated between dancing with her friends and standing alone in some corner when her feet started hurting (damn couples and their need to take all the sofa spaces so that they can PDA).

Elsa had her back pressed against the cold wall, feeling her heart racing. She's hiding because she can't handle confrontation and yet, she _can't_ look away from the mirror hanging on the opposite side of the wall either, the one showing every reflection and every detail.

Elsa should not be spying on the two people making out. It was horribly gross. And it was Hans and Lottie.

He was kissing the side of her jaw and down her neck in a rather hurried manner. It was like he didn't want to linger and enjoy the moment (because, maybe, he wasn't enjoying it).

And even from far away, Elsa knows that Hans is drunk but he's not _that drunk_ and his actions look more forced than anything. Like he's trained himself to push through it or the outcome won't be pleasant.

_Stop_. Elsa thinks but doesn't move an inch. She contemplates on closing her eyes and pretending she's invisible like those many years ago.

"Hey. _Hey_, darlin', no. It's okay, you don't gotta force yourself, you can stop." Elsa hears Lottie say and she sees Lottie putting a hand on Hans' chest to stop him.

"What?" Hans mutters in confusion like he's never given the option to stop.

Lottie cups the sides of his face with her hands and looking him in the eyes. Lottie pauses for a moment, really taking in the sight of Hans' green eyes. Hans pauses too – or rather, he freezes, he doesn't think he's ever been put in this sorts of situations.

"It's okay, hun," Lottie reassures. "You don't gotta do that with me. I ain't like those girls you meet at one of your wild parties. You don't gotta butter me up, we're fine as it is. I like you, but I also like bein' your friend. We don't gotta be more than that. I ain't gonna stop likin' you just because you don't give me attention."

Hans stares at Lottie with an expression she can only describe as 'shocked'.

"I ..." He blinks. "I don't understand. You don't want ... You don't want me to ...?"

"I don't want anythin' from you, sugar. Like I said, you don't gotta do this, we're okay. I'm your friend."

"I – Sorry, it's –" Hans stumbles with his words, still trying to wrap his head around Lottie's reasoning. "This is the first time anyone's ever said that to me. Are you sure? You don't want me to do anything?"

"Oh, darlin'," With her hands still on the side of his face, Lottie gently sweeps her thumb against Hans' freckled cheek. "I don't want nothin'. Even if I did, you can't always give people the things they want – especially if that 'thing' is you. You're a person, Hans. You're not an object, you can't just be passed around any time someone wants to use you. You can't go around pleasin' everyone."

Hans' shoulders drop and he steps back from Lottie. "Sorry. I may have come off too strongly or –"

"Hey, it's okay. It's not your fault, you're just used to ... you're used to people wantin' somethin' from you. I don't agree with your mentality, but it's expected for you to think so. I don't want anythin', really. Let's just enjoy the night, shall we?"

Hans nods but doesn't say anything more.

Dropping her hand from his cheek to his arm, Lottie gives the redhead a smile. "We're fine. You're fine. We can have a grand time without any of this."

Then Lottie whispers something to Hans in a low voice, Elsa wasn’t sure what it was, but there was enough shock in her system to force her to rip her blue eyes away from the mirror and onto the wooden floors. Elsa thinks she’s safe staying as still as a statue. She’s just minding her business, she isn’t doing anything wrong.

She's staring at her palms when a freckled hand shoots out and grabs her by the shoulder.

"Elsa,"

"H – Hans?" Elsa stammers. She wants to ask 'Where's Lottie?' because an impending doom told her she shouldn't be around him alone.

"_Elsa._" He hisses her name out through gritted teeth. Then – “You saw that?” Hans asks, moving to grab her thin wrist. She almost cried out in alarm but he talks over her panic. “Did you see?” He repeats himself. He looks more scared than she does.

“Y – Yes. I mean, no. _No._" Her words came tumbling out in a panic.

She wasn't supposed to see that, she wasn't supposed to hear that. She thinks she _will_ cry.

"I didn’t see anything if that’s what you want me to believe.” She tells him.

It was nothing. She saw nothing. It was just two people making out but Hans is making a big deal out of this, so she's making a big deal out of it too, mirroring his manic state. The make-out session was insignificant (but the conversation though –).

“You must think –” He starts, his hand still holding her. “You must think I’m horrible. You must think I’m cheap, throwing myself so easily. I’m not desperate, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s not like that."

"No, Hans, I don't – I don't see you like that! Honest, I –" She wants to say 'I would never lie to you' but she's done that many times already.

"Lottie is a nice person, okay?"

"O – Okay." Elsa chokes out.

"She’s different."

"Alright."

"She’s stable.”

"... What?" Elsa stops. "You mean, unlike the other girls you've dated?” Elsa asks, trying to make sense of the whirlwind she’s just witnessed.

“No. No, I’m not –” Hans squeezes his eyes shut, trying to find the right way to word himself. “Those girls, they’ve been kind to me too, just like Lottie. A lot of people have been kind to me, but it’s not _the same._ Okay? It’s different.”

“Wh – What? I don’t understand.”

“I –” He pauses, mouth open like he’s trying to find the best possible way to explain himself. “I suppose you won’t believe me even if I tell you. I’ve never told anyone before.”

Elsa isn’t sure if she deserved to know because what Hans might unravel to her could be a fact about him that he does not routinely tell people. It might be a piece of news that she should earn to hear over time. Ones he only tells his best friends. And she isn’t sure if she is his best friend, but maybe she is the closest thing he has to one.

She licks her lips then says, "You can tell me if you want."

Elsa watches his chest expand like he's trying to gulp down air. Is he hyperventilating?

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He blinks back the moisture in his eyes. She's suddenly scared for him. She suddenly doesn't want to hear his story. “You just have to understand, there was no where else to go, okay? I needed to leave. I wanted a place to belong.”

“W – What? Don’t you have a house?” Elsa found herself asking. “Your parents and your brothers –?”

“_No_.” He had said with so much force that Elsa flinches. “I can’t stand that big, empty house. I can’t stand it there. I’ll find any excuse to visit Lottie’s or someone else’s place.”

“Why?” Elsa feels just as confused as the day he gave her that quick peck on the cheek.

“Because they can’t say ‘no’. Because they owe me. I did them a favour and they owe me, even if it ends with me couch surfing.”

“Why go through all that trouble?”

Hans looked like he was in pain as he tells her, “The Southern Isles Manor holds too many bad memories. I thought that, maybe, when I brought you over then I could somehow mould those memories but even _you_ ran away from that place.” Hans says. “Anywhere is better. Anywhere that feels safe and warm. Anywhere that feels like a proper home. _Stable._” He repeats the word, rambling.

She stares at him, trying to piece together everything he’s saying. She wishes the clues fell together the same way Geometry did.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” He asks after a moment.

She shakes her head.

"Do you know the tale of _Cinderella_?" He asks her in a shaky voice.

"Yes," She replies in a small voice.

"I'm exactly like her: I was abused."

Shit. _Shit_, fuck, crap. Elsa’s mind raced. Maybe they should find someplace to sit? Does he need alcohol for this? She wouldn’t blame him if he wants to numb tonight out.

"I – The abuse happened a long time ago, it stopped when my brothers started moving out but …”

“Your – Your brothers hurt you? Your own siblings?” Elsa asks and can’t imagine her hurting Anna on purpose.

“My brothers are assholes, my parents don’t really care about me. Unless you think them throwing money at me solves everything. Sometimes I don’t even think they remember me. I think they stopped counting the number of sons they have after it got a handful.” Hans admits.

“Did they hurt you?” She asks.

“Yes. They weren’t afraid to use their fists. They never hesitated to throw things at me too. I have a small scar on the right side of my cheek, it was from the time they threw glass at me.”

Elsa’s eyes flew up to his face, distinguishing the healed cut among his constellation of freckles and wondered if it would be horrible to trace her finger against it.

“They also starved me.” Hans adds, causing Elsa to shake. "My brothers wouldn’t let me eat, they’d take the nearest plate within my reach, take almost everything then leave me the scraps. Later when I tried to grab something after dinner, they decided they would ‘safeguard’ the kitchen. It went on for a while.”

“_Oh, Hans_.”

“I should –” He says with sudden vigour. “I should tell you about that night.”

“That night?” She repeats, her stomach knotting.

“I don't remember how old I was, maybe eight or nine, but I got sick of going to bed hungry after weeks of enduring it. My little child mind thought that it’d be a brilliant idea for me to take the pocket money I kept in my piggy bank and just get something to eat. The flaw in that plan was that – one, I wasn't even at a two-digit age. Two, I lived at a property that was far away from town and business streets. You've seen it, it’s just endless rows of mansions."

"So, you walked?" Elsa asks.

"I did. I don't know how I even got to your family's diner.”

"My family’s diner?" Elsa gaps. “You stumbled upon _my family’s diner_? Are you sure? How do you even know you got the right place?”

“I recognise the layout, I kept a lot of my old drawings of that night. I keep it preserved like those pressed flowers in a book. Also, I saw a glimpse of your aunt and uncle, they looked the same. I don’t know if they recognised me but I recognised them.” Hans explains and there’s this certainty in his voice, like he will fight tooth and nail if someone says otherwise.

“But – But, the distance between your house and the diner is so far, it had to be about an hour’s walk, and you had tiny feet back then – how?”

“I don’t know how. It must have been a miracle on the accounts that it was dark but I managed."

“You found the place at night?”

"Yeah, I told you I was tired of going to bed hungry. It was after dinner. Nighttime."

"Christ, Hans." Elsa hisses. "You could have been kidnapped."

"I could have. Seeing a kid with bright red hair walking alone in the dead of night in his pyjamas; easy target." Hans shrugs. "But I somehow got there. Your aunt and uncle fed me and I played with your cousin, I believe? Um, long, blonde hair and … green eyes? Light green.”

“That’s my cousin Rapunzel, she goes to school with us. But, she cut her hair chin-length maybe four years ago and dyed her it brown, I think that’s why you didn’t recognise her.” Elsa says.

Hans gave a small smile. “I’d like to meet her to thank her. We drew on placemats together, she was a good distraction for when the cops came and took me back home.”

“You told your parents after that, didn’t you? You told them about your brothers. Did they listen?”

“No, my parents didn't believe me when I said my brothers were starving me. I know that our dining table is long but how bad is their eyesight? I mean, I know I was the youngest and therefore the smallest, but, you know, I should have been in their vision. I should have been safe with them. My brothers had no obligation to take care of me, but they were my parents and I suppose I expected something from them.” Hans says, in his mind, he’s rambling too much, talking about himself too much. But, it felt nice to have someone listening to him. “I wish I found your family’s diner sooner. It’s not that I didn’t try looking for the place again. I did. I searched and searched and _searched_, but I couldn’t recall it well enough.”

Elsa musters up the courage building up in her chest and holds his hand for support. “You’re welcome anytime you feel like it. Anytime. I don’t care what you order, it’ll be on the house.”

He lets out a small chuckle. “I’m not starving anymore, Elsa. I don’t need to be fed.”

“I don’t care. Just come over. You don’t need a reason. You’ll never be lonely if I can help it.”

Hans looked like he wanted to fucking cry as soon as Elsa said that but opted on squeezing her cold hand instead.

"Do you know why I’m so insistent on you helping me?” He asks her.

And when she shook her head, he told her.

“It’s because I know an opportunity when I see one. Elsa, listen – listen. to. me. You're brilliant, do you understand me? You're intelligent. You just get a little insecure, at times, that's all. All of us do. It gets the best of us.” He says to her. “Obviously, I'm not in the right mind to be as smart as you. I’m a little crazy, but I_ want_ to try to be like you. Education will get me somewhere, right? It's not just a lie? I'll be able to leave this place, won't I? Get my chance somewhere far, far away. I want to do everything in my power to get out of here. _Anything._ I want to leave and never come back.”

She doesn’t answer him. She doesn’t know if she can. Elsa’s aiming for a scholarship. Her chances are different from his, with the inordinate amount of wealth he owns, he’ll probably a place he fancies one way or another.

“You'll find a way.” She says. Then, because she wants to cheer him up, she tells him the truth. “Look, Hans, I'm not going to deny that you're not the best person. You can be rude and arrogant." She says, ticking off reasons why people would avoid him. "But, you're a good friend. To me, at least. You know what you want and you seize it. Work on that a bit and I'm sure you'll find stability and happiness."

Then she offers him a grin and leans into him, shoulders colliding in a friendly gesture – and he looks away, looking at the floor then their interlocked hands. He smiles back.

* * *

**iv**

* * *

When he shows up with a bloodied nose and a single luggage bag at his feet at her the door of her family’s business, Elsa felt like crumbling right there and then.

"What happened?" Elsa asks and a tiny part of her wanted to kick herself for thinking of asking, 'What did you do?'

He’s swaying when he walks up to her. Intoxicated, no less. "I fucked up." Is all he says.

...

She puts the plate of cake in front of him. It takes a moment for his drunk mind to react. But when it does, he stands abruptly. Not as if he's startled or jumpy, but more like it was necessary. Like he couldn't do his next planned action if he wasn't standing.

"What's wrong?" Elsa asks, meeting his eyes that suddenly look wet and shiny.

"You remembered." Is all he manages while her family watches silently behind the staff-only door.

"Well, you told me." She says because he had, he’s opened up more about his life since that night at the party. She now knows his middle name, and his favourite animal, and some of the things he had done because he felt like he needed to. She hides her hands in the big pocket of her apron. She didn't know why she did so but she did. "And, it's your birthday."

He doesn’t hold back or plays pretend. He cries.

(She almost cries too, but she convinces herself she has to be the strong one)

She puts her hands on his broad shoulders; and in her mind, it would look like they were about to dance, but then she lightly pressed down and guides him back to his seat.

She doesn't know why but the sight of him tearing up reminds her of when Anna was little and needed company. So Elsa does what she's always done in the face of a crying person; runs her hand through soft hair and look the person in the eye. She doesn't know how to hold him so she'll settle for this for now.

"It's okay." She tells him, shushing.

He ends up sobbing on her shoulder. And the angle's a little odd but she just cradles his head and hopes for the best.

...

As she helps him unpack his single luggage, she spots the familiar green book and holds it up for him to see.

“Why do you even keep this?” She asks, wondering if he will ever let go of his narcissistic ways.

He stares at her, then the book. “It’s a reminder.”

“Of?”

“It …” He licks his lips. “It reminds me that I’m wanted.”

“These people, they don’t know you. They’re strangers.” Elsa argues. 'Do you even remember the names of the girls in your book? Do you even remember Anna?' She wants to ask but doesn’t.

“So were you, once upon a time ago.” He tells her and there’s a pause. “I know that these people don’t actually ‘love’ me. I know that it’s mostly artificial or just the idea of me. But, it’s nice to feel loved, Elsa.”

Her clench fist shakes by her side, she doesn’t tell him that he’s loved.

…

"Don't you have a crush on Hans? I mean, you used to like him, didn't you?" Elsa whispers to Anna under the covers of their bunk bed.

"Did he brag about that? He sounds like someone who would, God, that was like a year ago." Anna says, sounding in a mix between offended and sleepy.

"No, I found out. I …" Elsa trails off. "I stumbled upon the Valentines card you gave him."

"Oh, geez." Anna whispers, embarrassed. "I mean, yeah, I thought he was attractive – gorgeous, actually." Anna replies above, voice drifting off.

"And?"

"And … that's it."

"That's it?" Elsa repeats, swirling between confusion and shock.

"Should I even be talking about another guy when I have a boyfriend? No, never mind, I can have opinions. But, I'm too tired to think right now. I might fall asleep in the next ten seconds. Um, maybe I'll know what to say tomorrow morning but I can't think of anything right now." Anna says and lets out an audible yawn.

"But, you're okay with Hans being here?" Elsa asks, attempting to stare at her sister through the mattress above her head.

"He's lost and he needs a friend, I don't mind." Anna replies sincerely.

"Do you think it's weird he's here? In our house?" Elsa double-checks.

"I dunno. Maybe if something awkward happens. But, knowing me, that could be anytime soon. Awkwardness is no stranger to me. I'm alright with the weird and the awkward."

Elsa inhales then lets go of her breath. "Okay."

"I just hope he finds a place to call home soon." Anna says then drifts off to sleep.

...

It wasn't odd to find herself in such a vulnerable state.

Elsa used to do this all the time when she was little; wake up worried in the dead of the night before getting out of bed to check on her sister and her cousin, and her aunt and uncle.

The soles of her feet pat down the cold hallway into the room where he stayed. The guest room, also known as her old room; the one she gave up so that she could be closer to Anna after the sisters had overcome Elsa’s struggles with her growing anxiety and depression and self-doubt.

Elsa skilfully cracks the bedroom door open and peered in. "Hans?" She whispers then waits in silence. "Are you awake?"

There's a moment where the only sound is the snow falling off branches and the heater working. He doesn’t answer.

Slowly, Hans peeks his fiery head from under the covers like a scared child looking out for monsters – the lower half of his face still hidden, fingers gripping and emerald eyes shining as bright as the moonlight outside.

Elsa stands unmoving, not awkward but more like she’s out of place. He stares; they say nothing, there is nothing to say.

He breathes in deeply, and slowly. Then – Hans sits up, red hair a mess and dark circles evident. Exhaling, he lifts the blanket then silently gives her permission to crawl into bed with him. It's small and cramped and hardly any space for two people, but she does so anyway.

The bed creaks, she feels odd sleeping in her childhood bedroom, dressed in her nightgown – the sheets are cold and her first instinct is to bury herself under the heavy blanket from head to toe – but she settles on staring at him, it's like he has nowhere to belong, it's like he's lost if not by her side.

With one hand touching the old scar on his cheek and blue eyes avoiding the bruises on his face, she asks him, "What am I going to do with you?"

He leans into her palm, eyes closed. Once again, he does not answer.

* * *

“So, you’ll be staying with your cousins?” Rapunzel asks, welcoming to the fact as they ate breakfast.

“It’ll be weird.” Hans says.

“Why? Is that side of the family weird?” Anna asks, her mouth full of sugary cereal.

Elsa eats her toast in silence. A part of her is glad Rapunzel and Anna are doing all the asking because she prefers not to snoop. The last time she did, it got a little odd and she ended up running away. Plus, she prefers listening.

“Not really?” Hans answers. “I mean, it’s my mother’s side. I don’t think they’re strange people. Though the youngest daughter, Ariel, might be a kleptomaniac, or a hoarder, I haven’t decided which.”

“That is a little weird.” Rapunzel points out.

“Maybe. But I mostly think it’s going to feel strange because of my aunt. She was my mother’s sister, but she’s passed away, so I’ll just be living with my uncle Triton and his seven daughters.”

“Whoa, big family.”

“I have twelve older brothers, compared to mine, it’s half the size.” Hans shrugs.

“My friend Snow White has seven little brothers.” Anna adds.

“What about the fact that all your cousins are girls?” Rapunzel asks Hans.

Hans hums, thinking. “I don't mind. I’m hoping they won’t mind me being an additional member either, since they’re used to having a big family. I don’t want to cause any trouble or change the dynamic by much.”

Anna looks over at Elsa, who’s still remaining quite, then offers Hans a soft smile. “We’re going to miss you.” Anna says, reading her big sister’s mind.

“I’ve only been staying at your place for a few days.” Hans says bashfully.

“We’re still going to miss you.” Anna repeats and, this time, Elsa initiates in the morning conversation by giving a little nod.

* * *

**v**

* * *

Elsa gets an unexpected call the week after graduation. It’s from Hans and Elsa doesn’t know why but her stomach knots itself when she answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Elsa.” Came the reply in the softest tone Elsa thinks she’s ever heard Hans muster.

“Hi.” She can’t help but repeat despite already greeting him.

“Are you free this week?”

“Um,” One of her hand hands finds its way, touching her braid. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve already graduated, so, any day is fine.”

“Is Thursday okay?” He asks, and it feels like she’s transported to the early months of her senior year.

“Yeah, sure. Where should we meet up?”

“Your house. I’ll pick you up, okay?”

Elsa beams, her cheeks glowing. “Okay.”

...

He pulls up in a truck. It wasn't shiny or new. It actually looked beaten-up, but it had personality, and Elsa could easily tell it was his baby, he took care of it.

Small hints of anxiety picks at her as she peeks through the window and sees that he’s dressed in a simple white shirt and dark blue jeans (it’s so different from his usual preppy attired).

He turns his head, showing her his profile – the movement made her notice his sharp jawline and pointed nose. It was unfair. Elsa was certain he looked prettier than her, ‘gorgeous’ as Anna had said, like how most people said. Attractive, but certainly not just that, there’s more to him.

Then he smiles, opens the passenger door for her from the inside.

And then they drove.

...

He moved, but not with a swagger he used to fake to command attention. His gestures were more with purpose, an extra bounce in his step, as he guided them from the worn seats to the back of his truck.

They enjoyed the view from the highest point of their town; growing comfortable with time spent together and time spent in private.

“Do you enjoy it? Your stay with your uncle and cousins, I mean?” Elsa says, sitting cross-legged.

Hans pauses for a moment, considering his answer. Then he squints at her like he's trying to piece her words together, before he gives her a sideways glance. “I enjoy it very much. It’s … what’s that word called again? That trope in TV shows? ‘Found family’? It’s like that, except that they _are _my family since we’re blood-related. They’re a little all-over the place but messy in a warm way. My uncle Triton’s strict and he’s got a bit of a temper, but it’s obvious that he cares about me, I guess he’s always wanted a son and I somehow filled that slot. My cousins: they’re very kind. They’re like the siblings I always wished for but never got.”

Elsa lets a comfortable silence fall over then before asking, “Do you feel loved?”

“I suppose I do.”

Then he laughs, it was strong and boyish, filled with genuine happiness. She saw teeth and a sparkle in his eyes, she doesn't think she's seen him laugh like that ever. She remembers he used to smirk a lot, acting like a bigshot. It always bothered her how he chuckled; there was always a hint of darkness and it never reached his eyes.

She can’t help but smile back at the moment.

"Thank you." He says to her, it was so sudden that she felt an oddness in her chest.

She can’t help but stare at him after he said it. He had changed, but not just physically. Emotionally too. It reminded her of how many months have passed and how she isn't the same scared girl anymore.

She reaches out to him like she did that upcoming Spring, with the snow melting outside her childhood room and fingers brushing near his sideburns. There’s no need for an exchange of words. It’s such an idle moment that she doesn't think anything could ruin it; not the rain or the heat or bad news.

It was just them: just Hans and just Elsa.

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Notes 4: I don’t know what this is or why it’s so absurdly long, but it’s here, it exists. It was probably not wise for me to edit this at two AM because suddenly I’m writing made-up words like ‘confusement’ and my brain is thinking ‘Hans hums’ but my fingers are like ‘Hams? You mean HAMS? I’ve combined the word for you!’
> 
> Like Anna in this fic, I too have a shrine in the corner of my room and a floordrobe. It's weird cause my shelves and surfaces are organised but my floor is cluttered. For the longest time, my cat kept playing in my room because of the high amount of exploration potential it had. I'm working on it, my two wardrobes are full (yet I recycle the same shirts again and again).
> 
> Notes 5: I did not think I would ever write HansLottie as a ship but I think those crazies in gas stations aren’t the only ones doing crack cause I must be on something to invent this crackship. I didn’t even think it was possible but days ago I was watching _The Princess and the Frog_ on _Netflix_ and Lottie said, “I used to think wishin’ on stars were for babies or crazy people.” And at first, I was like, haha. Then I was like, _hold on one second_, did you say ‘crazy’?
> 
> I don’t ship it ‘ship it’ but I actually don't mind it. I started toying with HansAnna and HansLottie more in my roadtrip AU which I haven’t published yet but it’s multi-chapter and it’s fun. The sort of haha-fun I can use before spiralling it into angst. Ah, to blend the muses Thalia and Melpomene together.
> 
> I do think Lottie would be a good sport about staying as friends after being make out buddies for a while. She was okay with kissing Naveen for Tiana so I figured, why not? I see her as the voice of reason, even if she can be dramatic at times.
> 
> But the situation I put her in with Hans? Yeah, sheesh. It's sort of sad. I've been watching videos of social experiments and the attractive people keep expressing a common theme where (1) people expect them to please them or (2) people only give them attention because they’re hot. It's like when you're attractive, people just think of your looks and nothing else, it's so shitty. Sometimes they get so used to the attention that once they don’t have it, they don’t know what to do with themselves? It's legit like selling your body. That is some dark ass bullshit.
> 
> – 4 October 2019


End file.
